


Strap your hands across my engines

by thegirlwiththemouseyhair



Category: Velvet Goldmine
Genre: Birthday Presents, Dialogue Heavy, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-03 01:37:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11521815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwiththemouseyhair/pseuds/thegirlwiththemouseyhair
Summary: Happy birthday to eclectictsunami; I hope this ficlet makes your birthday weekend a little more enjoyable. Also, the title comes from Springsteen's Born to Run, which my local rock station has been playing a lot this weekend, although its use as a title does not necessarily imply my characters' endorsement of the song or the real artist's existence in the fictional world of the canon.





	Strap your hands across my engines

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eclectictsunami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eclectictsunami/gifts).



“Is there a point to those, or are they just meant to look cool?” Arthur asks.

Curt turns from the motorbike back to Arthur, offended. “Of _course_ there’s a point. It’s the freest feeling in the world, for one thing – like fucking _flying_ – and it’s a way to stick it to the traffic, too.”

Arthur makes a _hm_ sound low in his throat. He doesn’t think anything can help New York traffic, and, besides, he and Curt have managed all right with cabs and the subway so far.

“It’s also just plain fun. No – ‘fun’ doesn’t cut it. Exhilarating.”

“Even when trying to escape that New York traffic?”

Curt shrugs. “It’s the best way to be – like – in the moment. Well, one of them. Music’s good for that, too. But on one of these, you feel the wind on your body and the road beneath you like you never could in a car or anything else. You’ll see what I mean.” His mouth twists into a grin, and he reaches for Arthur. “I got an extra helmet for you, you know.”

Arthur relents and grips Curt’s hand, ignoring the feeling of being too exposed that sometimes gnaws at him when he’s with a partner in public. The dingy, harshly-lit parking garage _is_ very exposed, but it’s also empty, and Curt’s enthusiasm is almost contagious enough to make Arthur forget his qualms about the motorbike and bike safety and public displays of affection alike. Besides, the pleasure of riding that Curt has described is so much safer than the drugs he used to do. Arthur’s rather peevish question about the cost of their new parking space has long since died on his lips: he won’t begrudge Curt something that makes him so happy.

“That’s sweet of you,” Arthur remarks. “All right, you’ve piqued my interest; I’ll come for a drive - assuming you _can_ drive with me? I’m quite a bit taller than you –”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll teach you how to lean in and pull your own weight. It’ll be amazing.”

Arthur never expected that leaning in and pulling his own weight on a motorbike were skills he would need to learn. He has never even had much luck with cars, never mind bikes, he thinks, smiling ruefully.

“So when are we taking your ‘early fortieth birthday present to yourself’ out for a drive?”

Curt’s grin takes a sly turn. “Do you have plans tomorrow? Please tell me you’re not working on a Saturday…”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to eclectictsunami; I hope this ficlet makes your birthday weekend a little more enjoyable. Also, the title comes from Springsteen's Born to Run, which my local rock station has been playing a lot this weekend, although its use as a title does not necessarily imply my characters' endorsement of the song or the real artist's existence in the fictional world of the canon.


End file.
